


Cowboy Couture

by Elementhyde



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Collaboration, Dress Up, Fluff, Fun, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elementhyde/pseuds/Elementhyde
Summary: This was a collaborative piece between @peacesentinel1 on Twitter and myself for a zine that ended up falling through. Was used as part of yeehawgust insteadArthur received a concerning letter from Albert and he and Charles rush to see what the problem is, only he isn't in the kind of trouble he thought.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Kudos: 43





	Cowboy Couture

Arthur dropped the buck heavily next to Pearson’s wagon. He stared at it as he cleaned half dried blood off his hands, discarding the small rag before cracking his neck. 

“Good thing you dropped this off! I don’t think I could have, in good conscience, used the supplies we had left. Thank you, Arthur.” Pearson clapped him on the back before he dragged the carcass to the back of the wagon for dressing. 

Arthur sighed and returned to untack Ulysses, the sun slowly dipping beneath the horizon. He eyed the stew pot lazily simmering over the fire as he passed and decided to opt out, considering that the deer wouldn’t be properly butchered until morning. 

“Letter came for you.” Tilly caught him by the elbow as he passed.

“For me?” Arthur stopped, confused.

“From Saint Denis. Real fancy.” She cocked an eyebrow. “You got someone special out there we don’t know about?” 

“This old fool? Nah.” Arthur dismissed, but Tilly’s coy expression remained.

“It don’t look like that Mary girl’s handwriting, so who is it?” Arthur shot her a glare and she sighed, exasperated. 

“Fine," she pouted, "I left it on your table. It’s just so boring around here, Arthur. This looked exciting!” 

Arthur shook his head, “If it’s some secret admirer, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Tilly scoffed and waved him off dismissively before wandering over to the music that had started near the fire.

He quickly finished untacking Ulysses and headed to his tent, curiosity piqued despite himself. He picked up the letter, the handwriting unfamiliar, flipping it over in his hands a few times before gently sliding his knife along the fold to open it.

**_Mr. Morgan,_ **

**_I hope this letter finds you well. I have gotten myself into a bind and I didn’t know who else I could turn to. I am in need of two able bodies for a project. I’m in St. Denis, ask for me around the Bastille._ **

**_I hope to see you soon!_ **

**_A. Mason_ **

“Ah, shit.” Arthur sat down on his cot. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_ What's Albert gotten himself into now? He promised to stay away from wildlife the last time they'd parted _ . He laid down on the cot,  _ what's he gotten into that he’d send  _ **_me_ ** _ a letter _ ? Kneading his knuckle into his eye until he saw stars, he sighed _. Saint Denis is the place to find out _ . Angling his hat over his face, he decided,  _ the city's only about half a day’s ride. I'll swing by tomorrow with someone, just to check it out. _

\---⤱---

Arthur blinked the sleep from his eyes, the dull pinks of the rising sun blearily shining through the canvas ceiling. He stretched and stepped out of his tent, crossing over to the fire. Hosea adjusted the percolator near the flames before turning to face Arthur.

“Morning, Arthur.” 

He offered a little wave in response, grabbing an apple from the wagon and kneeling near the fire. 

“Coffee will be ready in a bit,” Hosea took a seat at the table, picking up the paper and thumbing through it. 

“I gotta check on a lead in Saint Denis later. You hear anything else that may be worth investigatin’?” He took a bite from the apple and Hosea lowered the paper.

“Saint Denis? What’d you find out that way?”

“Ain’t quite sure, but I was gonna bring Charles along.” He poured them both a cup of coffee.

“Bring me along where?” Charles rounded the wagon to join them, a can of peaches in his hand.

“T’check on a lead in Saint Denis.” Arthur tossed the apple core into the fire and stood up, taking a sip from his coffee. “Was just going to look for ya. Ride with me?”

“Don’t draw too much attention.” Hosea shook out the paper, returning to his reading as Charles nodded, already heading to the hitched horses. 

They rode south for a while, briefly stopping to water the horses at a small farm outside of Rhodes. Arthur pulled the letter out of his satchel, re-reading it. 

“So what is this lead?” Charles asked, his eyes flicking down to the letter in Arthur’s hands.

“Checkin’ up on a friend. Got this letter in the mail. Sounds like he may be in a bit of a situation and needs some help.” He held the letter up in a hand. 

“Old gang member?” Charles pressed, suddenly cautious.

“Nah, just a stranger I helped out a few times. A photographer. Wanted to take pictures of all of the untamed wilds of America, before civilization destroyed it. If I hadn’t come along, nature would have surely destroyed him first.” He shook his head, exhaling a laugh.

“You think he might be in trouble? Why?” 

“I ain’t sure, but he asked for help and it ain’t that far, so I thought I’d investigate.” He shrugged. 

“Why’d you need me?” Annoyance peppered Charles’ voice.

“He said he needed two people.” Arthur tucked the letter away, whistling for Ulysses and swinging himself up onto the saddle.

\---⤱---

They pushed the doors to the Bastille open and were greeted by the bartender and a handful of patrons looking up as they made their way to the bar. 

“What can I get for you fellas?” The bartender leaned against the counter.

“We’re lookin’ for someone.” Arthur said, “Was told to ask around here. He’s a photographer- Albert Mason, you know him?”

“Maybe I seen him around. Ya’ll bounty hunters or something? Can’t imagine that boy in any sort of trouble.”

“Not exactly- he sent a letter for us to ask ‘round here for him.” Arthur pulled said letter out of his satchel and put it down on the bar. The bartender eyed it lazily before turning his attention to another patron.

“He rents a small apartment above the tailor. That’d be the best place to start. Ya’ll gonna order anything?” Arthur glanced at Charles, who shook his head.

“Nah, thank you kindly.” He dropped a couple coins onto the bar and they headed back out into the street.

\---⤱---

Albert opened the door, a huge smile making him practically glow as he recognized the familiar face.

“You came! I wasn’t sure the letter would reach you! Come in! Come in!” He waved them both inside. Charles looked at Arthur, who shrugged and followed Albert inside.

“'Course we came, you said you was in a bind. Everything okay?” Albert spun around, his face painted with confusion.

“Of course I’m okay, I’ll explain everything when we get to the studio. But first you both need to change.” 

“Change?” Charles interjected. Albert nodded and rummaged through some things on his desk before producing a couple brown paper packages.

“These might be a bit large.” He handed a package to each of them. Charles held up his hand.

“Change for what?” Charles’ tone was laced with apprehension and Albert furrowed his brow, confused.

“The photoshoot?”

“The  _ what _ ?” Arthur raised his eyebrows, “You said you was in a bind!” 

Albert turned red, realizing only now how his letter came across. He threw his hands up defensively before covering his mouth in embarrassment. 

“Oh! Oh no! I am so sorry. My letter.” He drew his hand across his face. “You...thought I was in danger...”

Arthur nodded, his lips pressed together in frustration.

“No, no, no, no. I got this photography job, on the recommendation of my acquaintance Algernon, to do a photoshoot for a catalogues new clothing line. It’s to be the first use of photographs in the Wheeler Rawson.”

Arthur exhaled slowly, his grip on the package tightening, frustrated more-so with himself for reading too much into the letter. Charles shook beside him and Arthur felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him, fueling his anger. 

A masked chuckle broke the tension, both men turning toward the sound. Charles broke, letting out a chorus of raucous laughter. Arthur flushed, turning to face Albert; he sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Got anywhere with a bit’a privacy?”

\---⤱---

The studio was set up when they finished changing, Albert directing them on how and where to stand. The starched clothes dug into them, Lemoyne heat making it nearly unbearable to stand still, bright studio lights only making matters worse. Albert tittered about, posing them.

“Just like that, perfect, don’t mo-” Albert sighed from behind the camera. “Stop messing with your shirt.” Arthur pulled at the stiff collar, unbuttoning the top two before Albert swatted his hands away.

“Ain’t no one really gonna wear this shit.” He grumbled.

“I don’t know, that shirt suits you.” Charles quipped, scratching at his own shirt before tying his hair in a loose ponytail to cool down. Arthur scowled at him

Albert straightened out Arthur’s collar and stepped back surveying the shot. He leaned in and unfastened Charles’s top button and stepped back again. The boys discomfort grew as he continued to stare. He checked the viewfinder on the camera. Sweat trickled down Arthur’s forehead, before he could think he pulled his hat off and wiped the sweat away with his forearm, slicking back his hair with and replacing the hat firmly on his head.

“No, no hat.” Albert exclaimed from behind the camera. Arthur froze. 

“Give it to Charles.” Arthur plopped the hat onto Charles’ head, his hand hovering as he waited for Albert to respond. 

“Perfect.” Albert whispered. Arthur returned to his pose, glancing down to see Charles grin before he heard the soft click of the camera.


End file.
